


more than duty

by Amymel86



Series: Sugar and Spice Drabbles [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 09:03:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: "... isn't that the point?" Sansa asks breathily and Jon's frenzied passion is cut as swiftly as the splitting of a log.





	more than duty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).

> I felt guilty for going over the word limit in my last 'drabble' so here, have another 😬
> 
> Gifted to Tanya for being a wonderful human!

He knows his breath is rasping in her ear excitedly like the huffing and puffing of a frenzied degenerate. He knows he shouldn't focus on how her bed frame is creaking or how the headboard is rattling against the rough stone wall with his every thrust. He definitely knows he shouldn't be so very aware of Sansa's hips rolling in time with his movements, or how her cheeks are beautifully flushed.

He's going to finish sooner than he'd like if he does.

It has only been three fruitless moons to pass since they'd decided it was time to do their duty to their kingdom, their house, their marriage._ A babe_. It is all for a babe.

It would be a lie from his lips if Jon were to claim that it is duty he thinks of when he's between his wife's legs. He thinks, possibly, Sansa may be experiencing the same kind of realisations about their union too. Not only has she become more receptive in the marriage bed, but she thinks to bestow him with affections that he'd never dare to dream of for himself as a young bastard lad.

They could have something _real_ here. They could have _love_. The thought only spurs him on and he presses a kiss to the tender heated skin below her lobe.

A short, sharp breath passes Sansa's lips and she draws her legs up, her knees now bracketing his ribs. _Gods_! Has he ever known such desire before? Jon groans, her headboard now rhythmically crashing into the wall with his efforts.

The familiar hot coil of pressure builds and builds but Jon is loathed to let this end just yet. He slows his attentions to a torturous grind against his wife, issuing sloppy kisses to her neck. "I need to slow," he murmurs into her, breathing her in and devouring her both, "you feel _so_ good, I'm likely to spill," Jon confesses, writhing and rubbing slowly against her in a languid circular motion.

"... isn't that the point?" Sansa asks breathily and Jon's frenzied passion is cut as swiftly as the splitting of a log.

He stills, slowly raising up on his hands to look down upon his wife. Has he misjudged their union so badly? "Yes," he huffs, his heart still beating a flighty rhythm against his ribs from just a few moments ago, "but-"

"But?" Sansa whispers. She looks so lovely, and vulnerable, and _expectant_, there beneath him, her skin still blooming a pretty shade of pink and her legs still pushed back ready to welcome his attentions again.

Jon hesitates. Should they really have this conversation with his stiff manhood still snugly inside of her? "But... I thought we could..."

"What is it?" Sansa asks softly, reaching up and gently brushing a wayward curl of his behind his ear.

Her eyes look a deep indigo in the dim light of her chambers and the fire pops and crackles in the hearth behind him. Sansa's legs begin to slide down by his sides. Her lips part in anticipation of his answer but all Jon wishes to do is take those lips with his own.

"I thought we could have more."

"More?"

"Yes," Jon nods, "more than... _more than duty_."

The smile that crests her lips was more beautiful than even the winter sun glittering upon snow. Sansa reaches up to his face again, cupping his jaw to guide him back down to where he belongs. "I'd like that, _husband_," she whispered into their kiss, "give me _more_."


End file.
